Love in micrometer

~THE DREAM- PART 2~

Shivamsha

I received the call from my lab asking me to mail some papers for reference. I informed my colleagues that I will be mailing it to them by tomorrow and requesting that I won’t be responding to mails or calls for the next 2 days.

I like the dynamics between us, maybe because we are in the same field we understand the importance of balance between work and rest, so neither of us gets offended when one does not take calls during the vacation.

I realise that the documents have already been sent before I took the break, so I called them back to inform them about it. I went to my room after a good dinner to complete the movie I was watching. I turned off my laptop, and I could hear somebody laughing so loudly that I thought the roof would collapse any moment.

Upon further concentration, I realised that it was Siddhi and her friend talking or rather screaming in the next room. So, the rumors were true that she actually can talk well, as far as it is not with me.

The bias is painful but inevitable. It was 10:00 P.M. so I decided to rest for the day. I turned off the light, laid down on the bed, closed my eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

I slowly opened my eyes, feeling my cheeks burn, staring at the ceiling watching my fan make a sound that is familiar, something that I miss in my PG. It was 12:00 at midnight.  It was the same dream again. I don’t understand the reason behind it.

The home is completely silent, apart from the sounds of the crickets from outside. I come out of my room to drink some water. I was startled to see Siddhi’s friend in the kitchen. She was looking for something in the freezer, facing her back towards my direction.

It is a very awkward situation because only I have seen her, and she is not aware of my presence behind her. If I make some sort of a sound or call her name, she might get scared because it is quite dark apart from the small light coming from the prayer room. I think about walking back in the way I came in, waiting for some time for her to leave, and coming back again when she is gone.

I turned around to walk back, I heard the fridge door close and a loud gasp from behind, followed by the sound of something falling down. I immediately turned and found her trying to bend down to pick it up. It was an ice pack.

She saw me coming towards her and stopped immediately. “Wait let me pick it up for you”, I whisper when I see her struggling because of her injured leg. I picked it up and handed her the ice pack.

“Thank you” she whispered.

“What are you doing in the middle of the night” I question her, although I had figured out why.

Maybe she wanted to place the icepack on her injury to ease the pain. I hope she is alright.

“I can ask you the same question”, she tells me.

The audacity! “Why do you not like me?” I blurt out annoyed. This sounds bad. I swear I did not mean for it to sound that way.

“I mean, not like that” I try to correct. I think I should just shut my mouth.

“Are you alright? Do you need to put the icepack on your ankle” I try to change the topic.

“Yes, I am fine, thank you. Sorry, I did not know you were in the kitchen, so I panicked when I saw you.” She explains. I nod and stand there watching her. This is so awkward. “Okay, good night” she says, indirectly informing me that she is not interested in any conversation and starts to walk towards the sofa.

I hear her hiss in pain, biting her lips to seal the voice coming out from her mouth. I immediately run towards her, wanting to help her sit down. You have no rights. I remembered her words. You have no rights. My head kept chanting, making me stop whatever it was that I was doing.

She turned her head towards my direction, with her eyes that was glistening in the low light that was falling on her head. My god, she is going to cry. I don’t know what to do, so I turn away. What am I even doing? She needs help. I turn back again, only to find her walking or rather limping towards the sofa.

I stand watching her struggle to sit down. My throat burning with some kind of an annoyed feeling as though somebody had me on a choke hold, with a big lump above my jugular notch.
This needs to end. I need to know the answers to all my questions.

I move towards the sofa anyways washing off all the bitterness and helplessness I am feeling and sit next to her. She lifts her head; her eyes meet mine. I can feel my face turning hot, my heart racing.

I look into those eyes, and I find my mind relaxing, the lump in my throat slowly dissolving as I want to dive deep into them, requesting her or probably even beg her to suffer less. To ask her to let me borrow some of her thoughts that she keeps playing in that small head of hers; to let me do the things I want to do to her, like lending her my shoulder. To allow herself to lean on me.

She looks at me through the dim lighting, shifting her gaze from my left eye to right, and does something I had yearned, prayed, begged for.

She smiles. Like a fever dream, making my cheeks flush and burn.